


i want to treasure our warmth

by kanonberiz



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 11:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22495510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanonberiz/pseuds/kanonberiz
Summary: you're about to leave for work, but taichi calls out to you, pouting.
Relationships: Nanao Taichi/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	i want to treasure our warmth

**Author's Note:**

> for shane.

He misses you so badly. 

Work has been unforgiving for you for the past few days. Stacks and stacks and stacks of papers crowd your desk, and multiple tabs of important documents fill your computer-- it's a miracle you find time every now and then to take phone calls and speak to potential clients, sort out some negotiations and finalize details of transactions in between. Taichi knows it, sees the weariness when you walk in late for dinner, hears the crack of your bones as you flex your arm to relax. Even in the comforts of your shared apartment, you bring home thick pages of paperwork, and he eyes you worriedly as he takes them from you-- crying out in shock when he experiences the weight-- and carries it to the desk in your shared room.

**"Hasn't your boss been too hard on you lately…"** He'd complain, upset for your sake and because he hates seeing you rub your temples to soothe a growing headache. He towers over you behind the couch while you sink into it, head tilted upwards to the ceiling. You grumble something about it being a busy season, and he scoffs indignantly before dipping his head down to kiss your forehead lightly.

**"You work too hard,"** he grumbles, and you can hear the pout in his voice. He must feel so lonely, coming home before you… You remember the victorious grin he wore the first time he came home after you, the excited heavy footsteps as he runs towards the living room to see you looking through some magazines after you responded to his monotonous declaration of " _I'm home_ …"

It probably doesn't help that you have to go to work extra early now-- granted, you're being paid for the overtime hours, and quite largely at that. You've been planning a vacation for months, just you and Taichi to celebrate you moving in together. It just so happens that work decided to be extremely active just as soon as you made the decision-- and it hasn't been quite easy for either of you.

For one, your shared dream of cuddling to sleep together in the same bed hasn't happened just yet. It's a tragedy you bemoan about privately at work, and Taichi, who was so used to being physically inseparable from you as you hung out in each other's houses, is taking the lack of contact even harder. He doesn't show it, but when you're away you know he overexerts himself at his job and during his stage play practices, all to distract himself from the loneliness. He takes care not to put any pressure on you-- physically or otherwise-- so he waits patiently for the moments you're not too tired to move and make an effort to comfort him.

He doubles his effort to comfort you. He prepares dinner for you (but not breakfast just yet, because he's too groggy to wake up in the mornings and you have to move fast) and he massages your shoulders and feet into the night. When you're feeling better, it's back to take-home work for you. Taichi tries his best not to grumble and pout while you work yourself tirelessly until you fall asleep on your desk. He wakes up after tossing in his sleep, pries you off the papers and pens and hard chair, and carries you into bed, where he gazes at your sleeping face until it haunts him in his dreams.

That's generally what keeps him up every night, and this morning, you wake up no different except for the messy tangle of his legs around yours. 

He snores comfortably, arms wrapped around you protectively, face flat against your chest. The familiar weight is comforting, so utterly missed, that you can't help but pull him closer. He sighs in his sleep and buries his face closer, and overcome with affection, you run your hands through his mess of a bed hair.

It's no different from when you first met him: still dyed with an obscenely bright shade of red, with some ends left black and untouched. The undyed hair is softer and clumps by his nape, and you lazily trace his strands and draw insignificant lines on his skin. He shifts a little under you, but he's still deep in sleep and breathing softly as you plant a kiss on the top of his head.

Like this, you curl into him, re-acquaint yourself with his form and the way you comfortably wrap around each other. He's changed shampoos-- you're distressed you haven't noticed the way he smells like cherries now, and not the usual mint that lingered in your nose whenever he was close. He seems to have grown bigger-- it's the way his shoulders seem to be broader and tighter under your palm, the way his muscles seem stronger as they grip you closer. He shifts again, mumbling something vague but whiny as he buries his face into your neck. The warmth is familiar and cozy, and you give in and let him sap all of your worries away when you feel his lips ghost your shoulder.

The only thing that broke your spell was the invading ringing from your phone. It's a struggle to peel yourself away from him and his comfort, but when reality sinks in and you realize you're nearly an hour late for work, jumping out of bed became a life or death decision. Your boss sternly talks you down on the other end, emphasizes that today is an important day for you, and you apologize over and over again before he sighs with defeat and reminds you the company is waiting. 

Taichi whines at the immediate loss of warmth, eyebrows furrowed in mild annoyance, and turns on his back quietly. You don't really notice how he manages while you run around the house frantically, wondering loudly how you could be late when the sun was barely up when you woke up and now, for some reason, it's high up in the sky and blinding you and laughing at you. You're disoriented, guilt running through your veins as you hastily put on your flats by the front door, because goddamnit, you just want to give your boyfriend attention and you were giving him it but time is up and you have to come back down to hell on earth. Temporary heaven in the arms of your beloved is such a luxury your work has constantly deprived you of.

**"You're forgetting something…"**

You pause in the middle of reaching out for the door knob and look behind you. Taichi is sluggish and his eyes are barely open and his bed hair hangs on top of his head like a trophy of messy, unfinished sleep. He watches you, a sulk visible in his expression already, and his bottom lip juts out in a pouting frown. The sight of him makes you feel weak and your heart longs to stay longer in bed with him again.

**"I mean, don't you think you're.. forgetting something…?"** He grumbles meekly at your expression, eyes shifting. He's embarrassed, and you realize he's probably guilty of holding you back like this.

You don't even think twice as you lurch forward and kiss him soundly on the lips. You haven't really had the opportunity to lock lips with him recently, and you realize with dread that you've been feeling just as depraved as him. The sudden contact makes him step back just a little from the force of it, but one arm comes to snake its way around your waist to keep you a second longer so he can eagerly kiss back, obviously pining for this moment for who knows how long. 

His excited eyes betray his tired expression. You think you see his eyes gloss over with something wet, and you kiss his cheeks worriedly to soothe him. It makes his face grow hot, red creeping up from his nape and teasing the tips of his ears, and he blinks the happy tears away, letting embarrassment overcome him.

He takes out your hand wordlessly, opens it, and deposits the handle of your trusty work bag, heavy with carrying the burden of your work. You stare at the item for far too long, confusion all over your face, and then flustered realization. 

**"I meant this… But thanks,"** You hear from him, and when you look up at Taichi, he's looking at anywhere but you, back of his hand covering a smile he's trying so hard to suppress. 

You stutter a thank you as you leave hastily, your own face burning even brighter than his. He waves you off cheerfully, despite the sudden shyness, but you swear you could see his figurative tail wagging fiercely and unabashedly behind him.

When you come back home that day earlier than anticipated, it is to an empty house. You prepare dinner quietly, hear the door click a few moments later, and then, a monotonous, half-hearted declaration of, **"I'm home…"**

He runs with so much eagerness to the kitchen when you respond, feet thudding on the floorboards in a rushed panic, and when he peeks through the hastily opened door, you watch the growing, excited grin on his face wash away the fatigue of the days past.


End file.
